


if I can shake it

by Overdressedtokill (SkyeStan)



Series: Kate Goes to College (ClintKate Fics) [1]
Category: Marvel
Genre: F/M, Kate's Last Night Before College, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 09:04:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3804667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyeStan/pseuds/Overdressedtokill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kate Bishop has sex with Clint Barton the night before her NYU freshman orientation.  She regrets a few things.  But probably not this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if I can shake it

Kate Bishop has sex with Clint Barton the night before her NYU freshman orientation.

She’d hoped a year off and a summer in LA and a staunch stance against ever doing the exact thing thing she’s doing right now would’ve stopped this from happening.

Because she’s had this weird feeling since she was sixteen, though closer to seventeen, that this was going to happen.

And here she is.  Under Clint Barton.

 

 

Thankfully, this isn’t like, her first time having sex, or anything.  She’s not that stupid.

Less thankfully, it’s her first time having sex with Clint.  Because she’s not that smart, either.

She’d intended, of course, to come and have an underage beer with him before she’d gone off to school.  She’s all moved into her dorm, actually, and everyone seems decent enough but she hadn’t been in the mood to go to any Welcome Week parties, so.

 

 

She’d ended up at Clint’s.  Like always.  Rode the J train without thinking twice about it and climbed up the stairs to his front door like nothing’s wrong.

And nothing is wrong.  It’s just this weird, aching feeling that’s been blossoming in her chest lately.

It aches less now.

And isn’t that the stupidest thing?  That she’s apparently been scared Clint’s gonna dump her as a parter or whatever because she’s going off to college and like, yeah he’s one train ride away but it’s different and she feels different and she-

Actually hadn’t thought about any of this until right now.  Oops.

Clint lifts his head from the crook of her neck, where he’d been saying... something, she hadn’t been listening, and he’s looking at her with this utter concern on his face.

Which is not something wants to see from anyone during sex, but least of all from Clint.

 

 

“Did I hurt you?” he asks, quietly.  “You went still.”

She studies the late-summer sunburn that’s spread across his cheeks and his nose.  The way his skin peels a little under his eyes. 

“No,” Kate says.  “I’m good.”

They’d closed the door to the bedroom.  Left Lucky sitting outside, waiting for them.  They’re so ashamed of themselves that the dog can’t see.  That’s where they are, right now.

And Kate wonders, while Clint’s still inside her, if her roommate’s ever had sex with a thirty-year-old.

She doubts it.  Like, a lot.

Clint’s staring right at this spot under her jaw.  She gets this sinking feeling he’s given her a hickey, and that’s gonna be a riot to explain.  “Are you,” he says, trailing off.  “Are you not enjoying this?”

 

 

Kate’s kind of curious if he’s this soft with everyone, like if he’d started into Natasha’s eyes and asked her how she was feeling.

Natasha has her shit together, though.  So Kate doubts it.

And the thing is, also, by the way, he’s really good at this.  Which shouldn’t be surprising, since he does this a lot, and she knows he does this a lot.  And she does it sometimes.  If she had to rate how often she did it, on one of those Alcohol Edu style surveys, she’d put “has sex” firmly in the middle.  Sometimes.  Not a lot, not a little.

Is that going to change?  Is she going to come over and just like, fuck Clint Barton?

What the hell, man?  When did this become her life?

 

 

“Kate,” Clint says, his voice finally holding some kind of weight to it.  “Katie.  You’re scaring me.”

“Sorry,” she says, and adjusts her hips.

“No,” Clint says, and gently, gently pushes her back down onto the mattress.  Pulls out of her all at once, and rolls over beside her.

She feels like she should cover herself.  She feels like she shouldn’t.  Because every part of her that felt like this would be dirty or wrong has decided to just up and leave.  

She actually likes this a lot.  And that’s frustrating and satisfying and most of all, really, really confusing.

Clint’s gonna burn a hole into her head if he keeps staring at her.  And she knows he is, just like she knows he’s counting his fingers, over and over, like he does when he’s tense.

She knows Clint forwards and backwards.  And now she also knows what his dick feels like.

So.  That’s happened.  Like, happened past tense, because now they’re just staring at each other, and that doesn’t feel like it’s gonna get her a second shot at this.

But she wants a second shot at it, for some ungodly reason.

 

 

She should really want to go back to her dorm and be nineteen, or something.  But she’s never been like that, anyway.  Why start now?

She really should, at least, attempt to start now.  But she probably wouldn’t be any good at it.

“Sorry,” she says, finally.  “I got caught up in my head.”

Clint blinks back at her, kind of slowly, like he’s taking his time forming a proper thought.  His eyelashes have always been darker than his hair, sort of a light brown to sandy blond comparison.  She’s known that for a while, and she’s not really sure when she decided to start noticing these things, but it was probably around that time when she realized the two of them were bound to sleep together.

She’s in deep, here.  This could end poorly.  Is ending poorly, right before her very eyes.

 

 

“Do you think this is a bad idea?” she asks him.  

He meets her gaze.  “I think I have a lot of bad ideas,” he says.  “I just want to give you what you want.”

“But do you want me?” Kate asks.  “I don’t need the pity-fuck, Clint.”

He almost smirks at that.  “Jesus, Katie,” he says.  “I’ve never- I’ll never pity you.  We owe each other that much.”

“So then,” Kate says.  “You want to have sex with me.  Not because I want to have sex with you.  But because you think, in some part of your brain, that this is a good idea.”

She expects him to think it over, at the very least.  Instead, he blinks once, and nods.  “Yeah,” he says.  “I do.”

“Fuck,” Kate says, because it’s all she can think of.  “You know my orientation is tomorrow, right?”

“You’ve only mentioned it three times,” Clint says.  “After showing up to drink all my beer.”

“You didn’t have any beer,” Kate replies.

“So I guess the joke is on you, then,” Clint says, and he smiles.

“I want to try again,” Kate says, suddenly.  “If you do.”

Smooth, Kate.  Well played.

He doesn’t stop smiling at her, but there’s something more serious to it.  More concerned.  And he just knows shit.  No one ever talks about it, but Clint just sits and observes and he knows things.  He knows her well enough.

 

 

“Why’d you come over, Katie?” he asks.

“I wanted to have sex with you,” she says.  “Before I like... change, or anything.”

Clint makes a face.  “Kate,” he says.  “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“No it isn’t,” she says.

“It’s pretty high up there,” Clint replies.  Without warning, he reaches between them.  Cups her cheek with his hand.

His hands have always kind of felt like sandpaper.  Coarse and worn.  Kate’s only ever noticed, though, when he’s touching her wrists or her arms, when he’s telling her to aim a little higher.

And she usually tells him she doesn’t need his goddamn help.  But sometimes she doesn’t.  Sometimes she lets him put his hands on her.

But that’s not at all what that feels like right now.  This isn’t a quiet tingle or a soft flutter of butterflies.

This is way more.  This is her tongue getting too thick for her mouth and her breath getting short and her heart pounding.

 

 

This is stupid, is what it is.  “What?” Kate asks, like that’s ever a good question.

“What’s so bad about changing?” Clint asks.

“I dunno,” Kate says.  “It’s just like, a weird thing is all.”

“Weirder than this?” Clint asks.

She snickers.  “I guess not.”

“There’s no expiration date on Team Hawkeye, Katie,” he says.  “I mean, you didn’t have to prove anything by coming here and throwing yourself at me.”

She gives him a look.  That’s barely even half of what had happened, really.  And in all fairness, he’d totally caught her.

 

 

“You kissed me,” Kate says.  “Like, just putting that out there.”

“Yeah,” Clint says.  “I guess I did.”

Fuck it.  She slides over, into Clint’s space, and figures they’ve already pretty much made it all the way once.

Hawkeyes are nothing if not persistent.

He kisses her (again. He started it.) And he forgets to pull his hand off her face.  So his thumb is kind of between their lips and she’s sure as hell not going to suck it into her mouth.  God.  They’re not even close to there yet.  She’s not sure they ever will be.  She laughs instead, because that’s easier.  And he grins at her and slowly pulls his hand away.

Then threads his fingers into her hair and pulls her face to his.

She rolls on top of him.  “Maybe it would be better this way?” she asks.  Not that she’d minded be under him.  She’d liked it a lot, but this felt... better.  For now.

He lets a chuckle roll through his chest.  It makes his shoulders shake in this way that’s too attractive for Kate’s liking.  Really.  It’s rude.  “Whatever you want, Katie,” he says.

She decides she wants this.


End file.
